my tired old mare
My tired old mare!
You talk like falling blossoms.
I must sit and gaze
Your spotless face,
And your spotted fate.
A night falls as I stare,
My precious prayer!
You're sleep like talking trees.
to whom I love
to whom I love, my beloved, I shall rest my head on her shoulder and find symphonies in her breath. to whom I love, my beloved, I shall glorify the life in her eyes only if I wasn't blind to colours that exist. to whom I love, my beloved, I shall softly touch her hands when the world sings anthems of the eventual love we fall in. to whom I love, my beloved, I shall look at her like a bird looks at a sunset and feels comforted enough to go home. to whom I love, my beloved, I shall sit close to her and whisper my giggles as if I've never been in glee. to whom I love, my beloved, I shall talk to her and make conversations about how to love and love her the same way. to whom I love, my beloved, I shall sing songs on trails I've never been on and listen to the sound of her soul. to whom I love, my beloved, I shall not reply when she asks about the one I love because she answers the quest...
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